The Beast That Held My Leash - Chapter 1

On an evening when twilight began to fall, a splendid carriage raced along a long stretch of road, kicking up a cloud of dust.

The faint glow of the lantern attached to the carriage was the only thing illuminating the dim scenery, and even that was constantly flickering due to the wind. Inside, it was nearly impossible to see outside, and because of this, Stella seemed on the verge of fainting.

Her pale face showed signs of barely suppressing nausea, and her frail body shook uncontrollably despite her efforts to remain still. The golden hair tumbling with every jolt of the carriage made her look like a strange, delicate doll.

“Please hold on a little longer. We’ll be there soon.”

Dora, the maid sitting across from her, tightly held Stella’s hand. Stella blinked her half-closed eyes and let out shallow, labored breaths.

At that moment, the carriage, racing at full speed, suddenly jolted violently. Dora swung open a small window and stuck her face out with a grimace.

“Hey! Can’t you slow down a little?”

“What? I can’t hear you!”

“I said slow down! The princess is struggling here!”

Whether the driver didn’t hear the demand or simply prioritized the king’s orders to arrive promptly, he continued to crack the whip relentlessly. Dora clicked her tongue in frustration and slammed the window shut. She then looked at the woman in front of her with a pitiful gaze.

Estella, the princess of Largo, a small kingdom located at the southern tip of the continent, was known as the Star of Largo. Her nickname came from the unique combination of golden eyes, which seemed to hold the brightest starlight of the night sky, and her enchanting golden hair.

However, it was difficult to associate her with that title at the moment. The meticulously applied makeup from before they left the palace had long vanished, leaving her face pale and tear-streaked. Her lips, bitten raw in an effort to suppress nausea, had droplets of blood where lipstick once was.

“Shall I tell them to stop the carriage?”

“No, it’s fine. Let’s keep going.”

Stella shook her head with a frail voice.

“If we delay here, we’ll be late for the meeting.”

Dora, gazing at the princess who looked far from her usual refined self, sighed quietly to herself. The queen had secretly instructed her to ensure that Stella arrived not just on time but also looking perfect. Even from a maid’s perspective, it seemed far wiser to arrive late and dazzling than to show up on time in such a state.

Stella lowered her lashes, lost in thought, but suddenly, overwhelmed by sorrow, began to bite her lips as if to stifle her tears. Dora clutched the princess’s hands tighter, her expression one of concern.

“Please don’t cry, Princess. Your makeup will smudge even more.”

“Let me cry. There’s no makeup left to smudge anyway.”

Another maid sitting beside Dora responded indifferently, her tone bordering on insolent despite being in the presence of royalty.

“Honestly, wouldn’t it be better to stop and rest for a bit? You’ve already stopped three times to throw up.”

“How dare you speak to Her Highness like that?” Dora scolded sharply.

“But it’s true. This cramped carriage is already unbearable enough without the constant crying. It’s exhausting.”

The maid muttered to herself, loud enough for everyone to hear, and cast a disdainful glance into the air. Even Dora’s sharp glare didn’t seem to faze her.

And why would it? Stella had been gasping for breath throughout the long journey, and her motion sickness had forced the carriage to stop several times so she could retch on an empty stomach. The maid, who had accompanied her to help with her appearance, now wore an expression of outright exasperation.

But it wasn’t just this maid—no one in the palace treated Stella with respect. She had grown up under the neglect of the king and queen, and to those who had witnessed that indifference, it seemed only natural to follow suit.

Who would care for a woman whose own family didn’t value her?
Aside from her now-estranged brother and the maid Dora, there was truly no one left who pitied Stella.

A burdensome princess. A troublesome girl whose only asset was her pretty face.

That was how Stella was always described, and she was painfully aware of her situation.

But just before stepping into the carriage, she had overheard the king whispering to an attendant: “A stupid woman with noble blood is the perfect asset for the marriage market.”
Those words still stung.

“Please, Your Highness, stop crying now. You’re just going to have a lovely dinner with a very charming prince,” Dora said gently.

“…A charming prince? That man?”

Stella’s pale face twisted suddenly in anger.

“Prince Hendrick is not charming. I’ve seen him with my own eyes. And now I have to spend the night at his villa…”

“It’s only because it will be late after dinner,” Dora tried to soothe her. “Spending a single night there shouldn’t be a problem.”

At this, the other maid, who had been silent, twisted her lips and chimed in.

“Or would you prefer to travel back down this treacherous road in the middle of the night? Who knows? There could be bandits waiting to assault a helpless woman.”

The horrid suggestion made Stella stare at the maid with sorrowful eyes. Then, turning to the window, she said nothing more.

She simply stared out at the unseen world beyond, silently wishing this unsettling moment would pass as quickly as possible.

***

The carriage crossed the border and arrived at the meeting place deep into the night. The villa where Prince Hendrick resided was brightly lit, as if he had been waiting all along for Stella’s arrival.

Although she had touched up her makeup, Stella’s face betrayed her tension as she stepped out of the carriage. Following the attendants, she was led into a grand dining hall dominated by a dazzling chandelier.

“It’s been a while, Princess.”

Hendrick stood at the entrance to the dining hall, greeting her with a polished smile. Stella gripped her skirt tightly and bowed politely.

“It is an honor to meet Your Highness, Prince of Pantege. I am Estella Rasa de Largo.”

“There’s no need for formalities between us—we’ve met before, haven’t we? How long has it been?”

Stella cautiously lifted her eyes. Hendrick, the second prince of Pantege, the empire bordering Largo, looked exactly as he did in her faded memories.

More precisely, he still had the same gaze he had given her years ago. She was just entering adolescence at the time, and Hendrick, visiting Largo as part of a peace delegation, had looked her up and down with unabashed scrutiny. The only difference now was that his gaze had grown even more subtle, yet far more invasive.

Frozen in place, Stella tried her best to suppress her discomfort and hide her unease.

“It’s been such a long wait—I thought my neck might grow stiff,” Hendrick teased.

“My apologies,” Stella replied. “I caused you great inconvenience by arriving later than expected.”

“Inconvenience? Hardly. Having a beautiful princess as my guest for the night in my favorite villa deep in the woods—what greater honor could there be?”

Hendrick chuckled, clearly pleased with himself. Stella, forcing a strained smile, felt her trembling lips betray her anxiety.

“It’s late, but surely we can share a drink together, can’t we? Come, come in.”

Hendrick grabbed her hand with a sticky grip and led her into the dining hall. Stella clenched her uneasy feelings tightly and followed him inside.

“Hendrick is the de facto heir to the throne of Pantege. You must be careful to appease him, and under no circumstances should you say anything that might offend him.”

The crimson wine flowed smoothly into the crystal glasses. Stella cast a hazy glance at the wine Hendrick poured for her and quickly averted her eyes.

“You’re aware, aren’t you, that Pantege and Largo are currently negotiating a trade agreement? For these talks to go smoothly, your role is absolutely crucial, Estella.”

Before her dinner appointment with the prince, the king’s words had been repeated so often they seemed to echo in Stella’s ears.

Her uncle, the new king of Largo, was eager to establish a robust trade relationship with the ever-expanding Pantege Empire, whose influence was growing steadily across the continent.

But what could Stella’s mere presence at a dinner with the prince possibly accomplish for such a trade agreement?

For the first time in her life, Stella felt the crushing weight of duty as a princess. She didn’t want to disappoint the king’s expectations. After all, anyone who had been treated as an ignorant fool for half their life would want to prove their worth eventually. No one wanted to be dismissed as irrelevant, as she had been for so long.

In secret, Stella had begun visiting the palace library, poring over dense books with tiny prints. She even procured economic journals—publications read exclusively by men—and studied them until her eyes grew heavy with sleep.

But it had been futile. The king, who treated even the smallest of Stella’s mistakes as catastrophic, never once commanded her to gain economic knowledge.

And despite her efforts, Stella couldn’t shake the feeling that something was amiss.

“Obey him. Submit to whatever the prince asks, and behave like a modest, well-mannered woman. That is the only role you must play at this meeting.”

Her ominous premonition had been correct. She had even overheard her uncle, just before she boarded the carriage, whispering to an attendant about “an asset for the marriage market.”

There was no doubt now.

They intended to marry her off to Prince Hendrick.

It felt as though a heavy stone had been tied to her ankle, dragging her into the endless depths of the sea. Her heart weighed unbearably heavy with the realization.

Arranged marriages between nations were so common they were almost routine. And yet, foolishly, she had never thought she would become the subject of such negotiations herself.